To find an Elf
by GreenSofie
Summary: Beautiful girl wants elf. But what if it's not enough to be beautiful?


You could barely recognise the dark ceiling because of all the light grey smoke right under it. Everybody was talking loud, the sound if all the voices were like a headache trying to find its way into your head; it was pushing your ears in a deafening sort of way. The plates and goblets shined of gold, all the colours were moderate and the food was of that simple and robust kind. The beer was flowing and all the 'late night and too much beer' songs clanged around the hall. But the silence had a little space in one corner. There was a old wooden table and a tiny fat man playing a lute. He was also singing. With a wonderful voice he was telling the crowd about adventures a long time ago. There was only girls listening to him and he had to sing one boring ballad over and over again. Well, he thought, they'll pay me much for this.  
  
* * *  
  
Trisha was sitting there, dreaming. He was singing her favourite ballad for the third time now. That one about a beautiful girl getting lost. She had long blond curly hair, a fair figure, glittering stars in her eyes and a voice that could drive men crazy. She had gone out in the forest picking flowers but she got lost and sat down on a rock and started to sing. And, 'poof', and elfish prince came running and rescued her. (In the next verse they got married and had ten gorgeous children.) Why wasn't she out in the forest by now? To be the youngest Rohan princess wasn't a good deal. She should for sure be married to some brainless warrior that only thought of horses and weapons. She was a girl with a future, couldn't they see that? She had knee long brown hair, big blue eyes (which was very useful when she wanted something special), an almost fairy like figure and a voice that was, well, certainly high. An elfish prince would be perfect for her. He ought to be romantic, strong, fair and have a great fortune. With the right dress and a strong horse she maybe could reach an elf wood. Nothing could go wrong. In all the ballads the girl was lucky, right? Yes, a ballad so beautiful and with so many difficult words wouldn't lie. Trisha heard some words about great wars and realized that boys also were listening to the bard now. Oh no, she didn't let her down to listen to songs about warriors, she thought and sneaked out of the noisy hall.  
  
* * *  
  
They had horses for sure, lots of horses. A great 'sitting in the forest' dress she could borrow form her older sisters. (In case, if they would regret, she should save them the knowledge of that the dress ever had been away.) The look she got. And the way to the elfish forest? The solution will appear, she thought, no problem.  
  
* * *  
  
Trisha stood in her sister's wardrobe. It was really large in there. A shiny copper mirror hang on the wall and the wooden floor was clean and smelled like a whole forest. The dresses hang in straight lines and were. talking to her. They whispered about great dinners, princes and girl dreams. Dresses, dresses, dresses. They hang there in lines that disappeared in the dark, close to each other, shimmering brocade, deep red soft cloth and stones that flashed in all colours in tiny quick glimpses as light from a distant lighthouse. She was overwhelmed, she picked at them in amazement. She was holding them, smelling them, pushing them to her heart. The dresses were rustling, smelled dust and perfume, they mounded her in soft multifold. She was desperate, there was so many of them! But there, across the floor, on a chair, hang a green dress. It was made in some sort of silky cloth and wasn't so very special at all. It didn't scream out that she had to choose it and because of that, she was almost crying for the loss of all the dresses by now, she took it and ran out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
On her way out on the dark yard she saw a running man. It was the tiny bard. He was also running against the stable. Why did he so? They had paid him much for singing the ballads and the songs.  
  
"Hey, where are you going? We gave you enough money to keep you singing all night, come over here!"  
  
The little mans shoulders sank and he slowly walked up to her.  
  
"They just want me to sing that song, all the time." He said with upset voice "I'm a bard, for heavens sake, I can sing hundreds of songs. It's like forcing someone only eat vegetable soup a month. Can you image that, just eating the same boring food over and over again?"  
  
He was nearly crying by now, stamping he's feet in the ground.  
  
"Are you talking about the one with the girl sitting in the woods catching an elf prince? It' so. so wonderful."  
  
He did a sign that could be a throw up but he was hiding it behind his hand.  
  
"I hate that song; she's just so extremely brainless. She's just good at being beautiful, like a vase or some sort of decoration. How happy will she be when she sits in the forest with only a bunch of weird elves? They are so intelligent she wouldn't even be able to talk to them without look like a foolish child. And they just want me to repeat it, it's not even artistic, jute very stupid. Would you like to hear a song about the walking shoemaker?"  
  
"That's boring, a shoemaker is so grey and, well, usual." She was trying to image the ladies listen to a song about something that wasn't about beautiful and wonderful things. I wasn't a successful thought; she could hardly image herself listening to something like that. "Has he got a wonderful daughter who can talk to the birds?"  
  
"No! Absolutely not, his daughter is a smart girl that wants to educate herself and be something."  
  
"What a stupid girl, she can be someone if she marries an intelligent and hansom man. Nobody would ever listen to a story or song about a shoemaker. They are so normal, no glamour, not a hansom prince as far as you can hear."  
  
"That's the point! Nobody wants to hear about normal people. If they want to listen they only listen to stories and songs about kings, princes, poor girls who is unbelievable beautiful and those who they call 'drama'. Always ladies who dies, or the princes dies in war or they can not love each other because of some stupid law about poor and rich. And-"  
  
"Er, I really have to-"  
  
"And those silly 'love at first sight' moments. Like 'her eyes was like diamonds and stars, he said hello and then I love you more than I ever had loved someone else.' Like that ever would happen."  
  
Finally he left a single moment to take a brief.  
  
"Well, it was nice talking to you but I have to go now. I'm in a bit of a hurry."  
  
"Oh, where are you going? It's late, you know."  
  
She smiled in a desperate sort of way.  
  
"I'll find me an elf prince."  
  
"I understand." He looked both tired and mad in a absurd sort of way. "Good luck I wish you. Only a last question. Where are you going to find him?"  
  
"Hey, I'm a princess. They always reach the forest in some way, doesn't they?."  
  
The little bard was chocked and tired. I had been a long day. The clang of the damn ballad wouldn't get out of his head and he was thinking seriously of quit barding. The only thing he wanted now was a hot bath where he could forget this night.  
  
* * *  
  
It was warm in the stable, the soft sound of sleepy horses surrounded her and it smelled grass and horse. There was dark and she didn't have a clue where the torches were located. She gave up a little desperate sound and there, behind her, a light blazed up. Her heart started to beat like a exited woodpecker and she turned around with one of those theatre scream without any sound.  
  
"What are you doing here milady?"  
  
The stable boy looked down at her and felt a bit confused, one of the princesses in a shining dress and knee long dressed hair with kind of a desperate look was standing in his stable at late night. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this?  
  
"I'm looking for the best horse we own." She put her nose up in the air and tried to look self confident.  
  
"Hum, well, ok." He couldn't regret a lady of the house the best horse but he could warn her.  
  
"Our best horse is kind of special. It's rather big you know, and not very nice at all."  
  
"It's not supposed to be my sweet little pet, I want to ride fast! Go on, show me." Her voice was much higher now.  
  
In fact, the only horse she had rode all by herself, not being escorted behind the saddle on, was a little stubborn pony called Carrot. The name it had got because it wouldn't move a centimetre if you didn't fed it with carrots all the time.  
  
"Ok, here he is."  
  
The horse was an enormous black monster. His hoofs were larger than the golden plates her father ate from, his tail was flowing down on the floor and in his forehead he had a big white star. When they came closer he showed them all his yellow teeth in a nasty and some sort of provoking smile (a hors couldn't look ironical, could it?) and tensed his horrible muscles.  
  
"Are you sure that you want to ride this horse? I wouldn't do that, many men has tried to ride him and just one of them succeeded, that's why we know he's the best if he tries. It was fantastic to see him run." She glared at him.  
  
"Yes, I want to ride that horse. Tuck it up for me now."  
  
The girl always does the right thing. This horse couldn't be that hard to ride, in the ballads the horses was big and had a flowing gallop. If this one was good enough she even might not have to have an escort, he would run away from all the dangers with her on his back.  
  
When the stable boy had, with danger of his own life, tucked up the big horse he leaded it out on the yard. It was dark now and rain was dripping down with a sound you only could describe with 'depression'  
  
"I think you should know that his name is Lord Arlock. If you act proper and with respect I don't think he'll hurt you that much. But I'm not sure."  
  
She glared up at the horse and caught her courage. (I was trying to hide somewhere deep down in her memories.)  
  
"Er, swing me up then."  
  
The stable boy was a bit confused, wasn't she able to do that by herself? He thought the princesses had a lot of experience with horses.  
  
"Swing you up? Are you really sure that you can make this?"  
  
"YES, now, help me."  
  
The glass in the stable windows was shaking of her voice. He lifted her up in the saddle. Her skirts was very much in the way, the solution they fond were that she lifted them up and sat there in her undies.  
  
Lord Arlock was very suspicious, what did that little creature do on his back? Did she try to control him? He laughed a husky laugh and decided what to do.  
  
Trisha sat there in the rain, high up with her skirts behind her in a very impartially way and did her best to make her legs long. Carrot had learned her that if you wanted a horse to move you have to hit it with your legs.  
  
"Well, horse, I command you to go!"  
  
She lifted up her legs and bang-  
  
-bang, that damn little creature had hurt him in his stomach. And she hasn't even said it polite; he was a horse with honour, not some sort of animal that you just command as you like. Well, he could be nasty too, if the situation demand so.  
  
Lord Arlock laid his ears flat back and started a heavy gallop from standing and ran out from the yard, over some walls and down hill.  
  
Trisha couldn't brief, the rain splashed in her face and she held herself hard in the saddle. What had happened? One minute she was sitting on a horse on the yard, the next she was galloping so fast that she hardly could hold her eyes open. And, aaa, it's going way to fast she thought the moment before she was hitting the ground.  
  
The stable boy wasn't surprised. The beautiful girl was gone. But what would he do if something was hurting her? Oh, help- He tucked up his favourite horse and rode after her out in the now screaming storm. 


End file.
